


And the winner is!

by Lonaargh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is hot as usual, M/M, Silly, What Happens In Vegas..., mild swearing, quiz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonaargh/pseuds/Lonaargh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an avid quizzer, but two of his usual teammates are sick and there's a certain amount of people/team required to play. He's desperate so he asks Scott and Derek owes him for something. Stiles basically takes them to sit there and make the team complete, but Derek turns out to be amazingly smart and  Stiles didn't think this crush could get any bigger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the winner is!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stilienski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/gifts).



Stiles squinted against the hot, bright lights, ignoring the bead of sweat rolling down his neck. He loved this. He lived for this. The bright lights prevented him from actually seeing beyond the stage, but he could hear the murmur and humming from the audience in front of them.  
His fingers hovered over the big red button in front of him. This was it. It was now or never. Everything depended on him. He was not going to throw away his shot.

“Alexander Hamilton died in 1804 after being shot in a duel. Who was the gunman?”  
This was it!  
Stiles slammed the button, “Aaron Burr, sir!” he answered, before the gamemaster even had the time to call his name.  
“Correct!”  
Stiles grinned, his cheeks hurting a bit from grinning so much this evening. Of course it was correct. He knew these kind of things.

“And with that, you and your team have won the semi-finals! Congratulations team NoShitSherlocks! You’ve beaten team American Eagles with 15 to 0 points!”  
The audience erupted in a tidal wave of applause and noise.

“YES!” Stiles punched the air in triumph and turned to his teammates. “We did it!”  
They grinned back at them. Well, Lydia didn’t really grin, as such. She simply had that quirky little smile on her face that Stiles loved and adored and that made him fall so hard for her a few years ago. A quirky little smile that said ‘Yes. We won. And that’s because I’m gorgeous and smart’.  
Next to her Danny was sporting the biggest grin Stiles had ever seen on his face. Okay, that was a lie. The biggest grin he had ever seen on Danny was on his lips the night after the date between him and that jock from the rivaling school.

“We totally did it!” Danny held his hand up for a well deserved high five, a gesture that Stiles happily met. “But, truth be told,” Danny told him as they went back to the dressing rooms, “you and Lydia could’ve handled this without me. I didn’t know half the questions they asked.”

Lydia scoffed, “Please, Danny, I could’ve done this on my own.”  
“Oh, come on, it’s bad enough that you’re drop dead gorgeous and smart,” Stiles remarked, rolling his eyes, “how ever will we cope with your stunning modesty?”  
He clapped Danny on the shoulder, “You did great, man. It wouldn’t be half as much fun if you weren’t here.”  
“Yes. That, and the fact that we need three teammembers to even participate,” Lydia commented, fixing a few stray hairs in the mirror.  
“Which does not mean we’re not happy with Danny here!” Stiles said loudly, shooting Lydia his angriest glare. Well, the angriest glare he could manage when it was her he was glaring at. Which was on par with the glare you’d give a cute puppy that just peed in the living room.

“Of course I’m happy you’re with us, Danny,” Lydia sighed, putting her comb and lipstick back in her purse, “I’m just saying that I could’ve done this without either of you. No offense meant.” She flashed her trademark smile at both of them before striding away on her high heels, hips swaying, “See you lads next week!” She called over her shoulder, leaving nothing behind but her lingering perfume.

Danny shook his head, “I swear she can be nice sometimes,” he muttered, “but sometimes…”  
“Preaching to the choir, brother,” Stiles muttered, hoisting his backpack on his shoulder.  
He perked up. “Now, don’t forget that the finale will be in Las Vegas next week! Vegas, baby! Whoo!” He put his hand up for another high five, but Danny didn’t respond immediately. “Or not. High fiving for Vegas is probably overdone. Yeah. I totally get that,” Stiles said, putting his hand down again.

“Sorry man,” Danny said, rubbing his face distractedly, “I don’t feel so good, wasn’t paying attention.”  
Now that he mentioned it, Stiles did notice Danny looking a bit pale. 

“Nah, don’t sweat it. Just get home, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you next week!”  
And with that they said goodbye, both happy that they made it to the finals.

~~

“What do you mean, you can’t make it?” Stiles all but shouted in his phone, “Lydia, this is Las Vegas. How can you not make it? You have to make it! You can’t not make it!”

“I’m sorry, Stiles. As much as I’d love to go to Las Vegas with you guys, I seriously can’t. I’m sick. I look like a freaking mess! Red spots everywhere. I’m not going anywhere outside where people can see me. There’s not enough make up in the world to hide all this.”

“Red spots? It’s not measles, is it?” Stiles asked, concern taking the place of his initial panic and annoyance.

“No. Chickenpox.” 

Stiles grimaced, “Seriously? The one disease you’re supposed to have as a kid and you decide to have it now? At this time?”

“No, Stilinski, I did not decide to become a walking ad for pestilence,” Lydia snarled and Stiles could hear the venom dripping from her voice, even through the phone, “and this phonecall is now over. I wish you and Danny good luck.”

“Lydia, wai-!” click. Stiles growled when he was greeted with the annoying beeping sound that indicated that Lydia had indeed ended the phonecall.

Great! Just GREAT. His best teammember decided to come down with a kid’s disease at the worst time EVER!  
Now what? They were supposed to go to Las Vegas tonight and now they were short one member. Stiles went over all possible teammembers in his head, counting them off on his fingers, “On vacation, is a douchebag, is a douchebag on vacation, I don’t want to spend three hours in her presence-” and so the list went on for a while, until he arrived at the final conclusion.

His fingers danced over the buttons on his cellphone as he punched in the phonenumber of the one person who could help him get out of this mess.

“Scott! Scotty! My favourite wolf-buddy!”  
“What do you want from me?”  
“I’m hurt. Extremely hurt. Can’t I even call my favourite canine friend without him thinking I have an ulterior motive?”  
“Do you?”  
“Do I what?”  
“Have an ulterior motive?”  
Stiles hesitated for a fraction of a second.  
“Maybe,” he conceded.  
“I knew it. Bye Stiles.”  
“No, wait! Scott, you can’t pass up this once in a lifetime opportunity to go to Las Vegas with me!”  
Scott was silent for a few seconds, before answering, “What do I need to do?”  
Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. Scott was in the bag. “Nothing. Look pretty as you always do while me and Danny kick our opponents’ asses at the quiz-finale Saturday. After that, all you have to do is enjoy all the partying that we’ll be doing. And then maybe take care of the hangover.”  
“Werewolves don’t get a hangover.”  
“Right. You suck. Then you have to take care of me and Danny while we have a hangover.”  
He could practically hear Scott think this over.  
“That’s all?” Scott finally asked.  
“That’s all, buddy.”  
“Fine. I’m in.”

Stiles gave Scott the time and address of where the bus would pick them up to go to Las Vegas. He let himself drop on his bed, folding his arms behind his head and enjoying the feeling of a job well done. Sure, Scott might not know the difference between a bestiary and bestiality, but Danny and Stiles were pretty well-equipped to win this quiz even without Lydia there.  
~~  
“NO. Danny, no!” This time Stiles did shout in his phone.  
“Yes, Stiles. I’m sorry,” came Danny’s pathetic and sickly sounding voice from the other side of the line, “I’m sick.”  
“Danny, the bus leaves in TWO HOURS! Where am I supposed to find a third teammember at this short notice?”  
“I don’t know, dude. All I know is that I feel like shit and these chickenpox are to blame.”  
Stiles groaned. “Et tu, Brute?”  
“Skip the dramatics, Stiles, I didn’t stab you. Good luck finding a new teammate. I know you’ll win this thing even without me.”  
And with that Danny ended the call, leaving Stiles fuming and desperate.

He texted Scott, asking him if Allison would be willing to join them. But apparently Allison was on a ‘family trip’ with her father this week. Great. Wonderful.  
Then Scott gave him one last straw to cling on to. His eyebrows shot up when he read Scott’s last text.  
“Dude. Let me know if the trip is cancelled, I told Derek I wouldn’t be available this weekend.”

Derek.

~~

“No. Go away.” Derek tried to close the door.  
“Derek, wait, please!” Instantly regretting it the moment he did it, Stiles put his shoe between the door. To his credit, he only yelped a little when Derek slammed the door against his poor foot.  
“Go away, Stiles,” Derek repeated, glaring at the offending member keeping him from shutting Stiles out, “whatever it is, I don’t want to know about it.”  
“Derek, I need you!” Stiles’ brain caught up with what he just said. “Wait. No. That came out wrong. Or right. Whatever. The bottom line is that I desperately need you right now. Well, not right now, but within an hour or two from now.”

Derek stared at Stiles, face blank.

“Please?” Stiles tried, hoping that his father was right in that it really was a magic word. He even tried to give Derek his best impersonation of ‘puppy eyes’.  
Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, opening the door further for Stiles.  
“Fine. Just stop looking at me as if you desperately need to use the toilet,” he said, motioning for Stiles to come in.  
“I was going to say that my puppy-eyed look failed on you, but considering the fact that puppies consist for 90% out of pee I’m willing to call it a win.”  
Derek’s bushy eyebrows shot up, “Sometimes I can’t believe what comes out of your mouth and then I remember who I’m talking to,” he muttered, closing the door behind Stiles.

“What do you want?” He asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Stiles was at a loss for words momentarily, staring at the bulging biceps in front of that marvelous chest.  
“Stiles?” Derek repeated, looking even more annoyed than he usually did.  
That shook Stiles from his reverie, “Uh. Yes! I need you to sit with me and Scott at a quiz panel in Las Vegas and-”  
“No.”  
“But-”  
“No. Get out.”  
“Derek, just-”  
“Now!”  
“YoustillowemefromwhenIsavedyourlifeinthatpoolandI’mcashingthatinnow!” Stiles said, as fast as he could, before Derek could interrupt him again.

Derek’s eyes flashed red, “You pushed me in that pool!” he snarled. For a second, Stiles was afraid Derek would kill him on the spot. Right there and then. It would be gruesome. And painful.  
Stiles didn’t deal well with painful.  
“That was an accident,” he objected, closing his eyes and raising his hands over his head in anticipation of the maiming that was about to happen, “and you were paralyzed. If I hadn’t been there Jackson would’ve eaten you for breakfast. Or dinner. Please don’t kill me, I wouldn’t call this favour in if I didn’t really, desperately, extremely needed your help.”  
He didn’t dare open his eye to look at Derek’s face. Instead, he waited with bated breath.  
“Oh God, if you are going to kill me, do it quickly!” he cried out, “I can’t deal with this suspense.”

“Fine.” It was soft, almost inaudible. It also sounded as if Derek had to dredge the word up from his toes, so much reluctance spoke from that one syllable.  
“Fine?” Stiles slowly lowered his arms and carefully opened one eye.  
“Fine. And after that we’re even. No more favours to call in.”  
“You’ll do it? For real?” Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This couldn’t be real. Derek, grumpy Derek, Sourwolf, was going to join him in this?  
“Yes. Now stop whining about it or I’m going to reconsider,” Derek turned around and walked back towards his bedroom, “Now. Get out. I’ll be there.”

“Great! Thanks, bro!” Stiles called after him, “the bus leaves in one hour! Be there or be-”  
“GET OUT!” Derek’s roar sent Stiles scrambling for the exit.  
~~

Stiles took a deep breath, blinking in the harsh lights that were once again on him and his friends. Everything was going to be fine. Just fine.  
Sure, Scott wasn’t the brightest. And suuuure, Derek’s hot looks weren’t going to be of much help. BUT, they just needed to score more points than the other team. And Stiles was good at this shit. Danny had already said that he and Lydia could do this with just the both of them, but Stiles was pretty damn sure that he could do it on his own as well. Just as sure as Lydia was about her own abilities.  
“Okay, guys,” he whispered to both Scott and Derek, “let me do the talking. If you are 100% sure you know the answer, it’s alright to hit the button. Otherwise, let me handle this!”

Scott nodded, grinning at Stiles in what he probably thought was a reassuring manner, but to Stiles it seemed more like the smirk of someone who was way out of his depths at this.  
Derek rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh of frustration.  
Stiles did a quick prayer in which he beseeched every deity he knew to please, please, please let them win. And please, for the love of whoever was willing to listen to not let Scott answer anything.

His prayers were interrupted by the themesong of the quiz, indicating that the game had started.  
Stiles nervously hopped from one foot to another. Here came the first question.  
“Upon completion in 1884, what became the world's tallest structure for 5 years until the completion of the Eiffel Tower?”  
Stiles' hand flew to the button on his desk, but he was too slow. To his great astonishment, Derek had pressed the buzzer in a blink of an eye.  
Glaring, Stiles stared hard at Derek, who seemed not to notice. ‘Do not answer’ Stiles thought hard at his teammate, ‘Tell the quizmaster you want to give the question to me. Do not fuck this up.’  
Not for the first time in his life, Stiles wished he had psychic powers. He closed his eyes tightly.

“The Washington Monument,” he heard Derek’s deep voice rumble. Pfah. That dumbass, that was- Wait.  
“That’s correct!" the quizmaster boomed, "One point for the No Shit, Sherlocks!”

Stiles squinted at Derek. That must’ve been a coincidence. Surely. Nobody with a chiseled jaw like Derek’s was allowed to be smart. That was just unfair. It's a universal rule. Handsome people were dumb. Smart people were mediocre looking at best. Stiles was the obvious exception. Well, Stiles and Lydia.

“Next question,” the quizmaster went on. Stiles shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. He looked at the quizmaster who read the next question from his cuecards. “Who wrote the book No Cross, No Crown in 1669 whilst imprisoned in the Tower of London?”  
London? They were in America. Why ask a question about somebody imprisoned in Lon-  
“William Penn” Derek answered at the same moment his buzzer went off.

What. How even- Stiles glared hard at the werewolf to his left. This really was Derek, right? It was not some sort of weird futuristic robot sent here to kill him?  
“You are staring at me,” Derek growled from the corner of his mouth, still not looking at Stiles.  
“Yes. Well. You are freaking me out,” Stiles mouth-cornered back. No reply.

“Third question! The Sarah Jane Adventures is a spin-off of which television programme?”  
Ha! There was no way Derek knew this. This was so very much not his field of expertise!  
Stiles's cocky smile faded from his lips the moment Derek slammed his hand on the buzzer.  
“Oh, come on!” Stiles cried out, earning him a confused glance from the quizmaster. 

He tried his best to ignore Scott's laughing when Derek answered the question correctly again.  
“Doctor Who.”  
Was Stiles just imagining this, or did Derek sound smug?

In the end, they won without letting the other team score even a single point. In fact, the only one who ever touched that stupid buzzer, was Derek.  
After the quiz, Derek had disappeared into the night while Scott and Stiles painted the town, swerving from venue to venue.  
Now Stiles was back in his hotelroom, slightly tipsy and utterly unable to sleep. His thoughts were keeping him up, replaying today’s events over and over again.Who knew that handsome asshole was so smart? Why hadn’t Stiles been told about this?  
He pressed his face in his pillow, trying to block out the memory of that stupid smirk. But of course, just like it was hard to forget the smell of that stupid werewolf's aftershave, there was no forgetting Derek’s smirk. That adorable smirk with the bunny teeth. No! No bunny teeth. Scary, threatening werewolf teeth. Nothing to get excited over. Sadly, Stiles was having a hard time (he groaned at his own bad pun) convincing himself.

Afterwards he wasn’t sure if it was simply stupid bravado, or the booze, but he somehow found himself in front of Derek’s hotelroom, angrily knocking on the door. He had half expected Derek to be angry, or slightly annoyed at best, at being woken up at this time of night, but Derek calmly opened the door and let Stiles in. Well. Stiles wasn’t going to let a silly thing like common sense and decency get in the way of his anger.  
“How dare you,” he began when Derek closed the door behind them, “how dare you!”

Derek raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his impressive chest, “How dare I what?”

“How dare you be handsome and smart? What the hell was that tonight, huh?” Stiles poked a finger against Derek’s chest, and somewhere his subconscious registered that it barely gave way with his prodding and felt nice and firm. He shoved his squealing subconscious aside. “What the hell did you think you were doing, being all gorgeous and dark and handsome and UGH!” Stiles threw his hands up in frustration and started pacing the room.  
“It’s not enough for you to be all broody and giving me the most awkward boners at the most inconvenient times, noooo.. of course not. At least I could still pretend that you were just a pretty face with an empty head. You ruined all that tonight!” He spun around and strode back to Derek, waving his finger under Derek’s nose, “Did you ever have a boner in front of a creature you just KNOW can smell it from a mile off and you absolutely do NOT want them to smell ANYTHING of you, let alone the awkwardest boner known in man or wolfkind? Did you? Huh? DIDYA?!”

It was then that Stiles noticed Derek’s little grin. A sexy little grin.

“For FUCK’s sake, dude!” Stiles cried out, pointing an accusatory finger at Derek’s face. “That’s is exactly what I’m talking about!” He now pointed at his own crotch, “THIS is an awkward boner. And it’s all-” the finger went back to Derek’s face, “YOUR doing! I hope you’re proud!”

He squealed a bit when Derek took a step forward, grabbing Stiles’s wrist. Shit. This was it. He had pissed a werewolf off. It's never a good idea to accuse someone of causing awkward boners, who can effectively rip your throat out with his left pinkie. Stile squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Derek to snap his wrist like a twig. But instead, he suddenly felt warm lips against the sensitive skin of his palm.  
“So,” Derek whispered hoarsely, “I’m giving you awkward boners?” 

Involuntarily, Stiles’ gaze was drawn downwards. In the faint light coming from the neon sign outside, he could see that he wasn’t the only one with an awkward boner. Although… he wouldn’t quite call anything of that size ‘awkward’. Well. This changed the situation considerably. "Yes, you do," he answered, trying to not let his voice wobble too much, "and, if it's all right with you, I'm going to give you an awkward kiss that might turn into awkward sloppy makeouts." Derek's grin widened, "Yeah, I suppose that's all right with me". 

Stiles yanked his hand free from Derek’s grip and flung his arms around Derek’s neck, catching the lips that were nipping at his hand just a moment earlier against his own. He was momentarily startled when Derek growled low against his mouth, but when Stiles wanted to pull away the growling intensified. Okay. So, there is a 'this feels good' growl, and a 'don't you dare stop kissing me or I'll get cranky" growl. Good to know. Gutteral communication for the win.  
Together they made a strange crablike waddle towards the bed, clothing flying everywhere, limbs being in each other’s way. But it didn’t matter to Stiles. All he could think of was that he finally won the jackpot.


End file.
